


Of An Entwife

by Rahab_Morgan



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Ents, Entwife, F/M, Trees
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-07
Updated: 2007-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:43:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rahab_Morgan/pseuds/Rahab_Morgan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I am an Entwife, of sorts. I was not born an Entwife, as you might have guessed. Rather, I became an Entwife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of An Entwife

**Author's Note:**

> In Memory of Mackenzie Jo VanDorn, my husband's cousin, who died July 13, 2007 at three years of age after a tragic accident while at the zoo with her family.

 

* * *

_Now all wept and mourned for her; but He said, "Do not weep; she is not dead, but sleeping."_

_"Let the little children come to Me, and do not forbid them; for of such is the kingdom of heaven."_

_Luke 8:52; Matthew 19:14_

* * *

_  
_

I cannot recall much of my life... I was so young, according to both human and Ent reckoning, when it ended. My name, the one from when I was young, I have long forgotten. It is now much too long to tell you.

I remember my mother and my father, but only the vaguest imagining of their faces. I have, or rather,  _had_ , a brother. I remember him because he was the only one who knew me after what happened. I don't remember his name, either, but I remember  _him_. A person is much more than their name.  
  
Sometimes, when I sit and ponder, the vaguest glimmers of the life I knew before will present themselves to me. There was some sadness, but the laughter and love far exceeded it. I hope every child shares the same memories, but I fear it is not so. The world – and people – are cruel.  
  
I am an Entwife, of sorts. I was not born an Entwife, as you might have guessed. Rather, I became an Entwife.

It happened one day when I was out riding. I must have wandered into Fangorn, and I remember a storm overtaking me. I think a dead branch fell and struck me, or perhaps it was one of the more malicious trees just waiting for an unwary traveler like me.  
  
An Ent found me, Quickbeam was his name in the Common Tongue. He saw me lying there, dying, and did the only thing he could to save my life - he used a weeping willow's life to refresh my own. It was not a 'living' tree beforehand, merely a tree. Through the night he labored over me, but the change was not made evident until daybreak.  
  
Such is my doom now - to stand a weeping willow by day, and become a maiden by the moonlight.

**Author's Note:**

> Written a very, very long time ago when I was just beginning to dip my toes in the world of writing. I lightly edited this after rediscovering it today, so please forgive any ... awfulness.


End file.
